The Strategy
by Jiang Qing
Summary: As devastation is ever impending, the Ministry of Magic are getting desperate. How many students, upon leaving Hogwarts, will become Aurors... or Death Eaters? Surely it would be better to get rid of the lot of them? Wizards are a dying breed after all...


_Harry crashed through the density of the forest, gasping for breath. His glasses had long since deserted him, lost in the fury of the chase, and the world was now a blur- a canvas painted by the most inexpert of artists. A stabbing pain ripped through Harry's side once again, and he collapsed to the earthen floor, ragged noises he didn't recognise tearing out of his mouth. His scar throbbed once more, yet he could only swat at it weakly with his uninjured hand. This couldn't be the end. He had so much to do, so much to live for…_

_The sweat drenched into his T-Shirt as Harry struggled to his feet. Luckily, he seemed able to stand, though he relied heavily on the sturdy tree branch he had picked up a few yards back. If he could walk, that was fine. He could rescue the others later, but for now he had to deal with this alone. He knew that Dumbledore could never have agreed to be part of this stupid competition. It was the Ministry, terrified about Voldemort's return, and too weak to do anything real about it. Sometimes, Harry thought, as he reached for his wand, it almost as if it wasn't Dumbledore playing the ultimate game of chess, but was a pawn like the rest of them._

I have made a lot of mistakes, Harry.

_His pocket was empty. His heart pulsing in his mouth, Harry let loose his grip on the tree branch and instantly fell to his knees, yet he hardly noticed the fresh agony that swept through every one of his bones. Where was his wand? Was he… he couldn't be expected to win without magic. And if he didn't win this game then the rest of the Wizarding world would be destroyed, unrecognisable as the fear and death swept down every crevice of humanity as they knew it._

_"Looking for this, Harry?"_

_Harry, startled out of his thoughts, glanced upward. She stood there, smile rendered false by her large, worried brown eyes. "Oh Harry!"_

_She flung herself at him, and awkwardly, Harry patted her on the back. He wished he had his glasses to see if she was injured, but all available to his useless eyesight was a vague smear on the landscape. He recognised her voice though._

_"Hermione!" He pushed her away and peered at her fruitlessly. "Are you hurt? Where have you been? Where's Ron?"_

_"I… I don't know." Hermione's voice choked with more tears. "One minute we were together, and the next he had gone. He could be anywhere. I've been searching for hours trying to find him or you and I'm so scared… Pansy tried to kill me, Harry! I only managed to escape by putting her under the Imperius curse!" Hermione let out a fresh wail, and buried her face into Harry's soaked shoulder._

_"It's okay, Hermione. I'm just glad you're safe. We need to find Ron, and make a plan. Perhaps if we find Neville and some others we have a chance to escape. But I have no wand…"_

_"I found it." Hermione's voice was high-pitched, and sounded terrified. Harry, although he couldn't see, shot what he thought was a puzzled glance._

_"You found it? Where?"_

_"On the forest floor, a few yards back. So I followed the trail you left behind until I found you here."_

_"Hermione, you've saved me." For the first time since the beginning, Harry actually allowed relief to spread through his aching muscles. "Thanks." He reached for it, but Hermione kept it out of his reach._

_"Perhaps I should look after it for a while."_

_"What?"_

_He couldn't really tell, but Hermione glanced past him, as if searching for an enemy likely to jump out of the bushes at any second. "Perhaps, I should look after it. I mean, now we're together, I can give it to you if things get dangerous. You could always lose it again."_

_"Look," Harry said, growing impatient. "Give me my wand, I _need_ it. What if I lose _you_?"_

_"You won't."_

_There was something strange going on. As the rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, creating dapples of gold on the leafed floor, Harry felt an inexplicable knife of fear. It was as if someone with incredibly cold hands were running their fingers down his back, no matter how much he begged them to stop. Something was screaming at him that he had been led into a trap- that he should run and escape- but this was Hermione. She was clearly too petrified to think straight._

_"Her-"_

_"The Dark Lord has tried to kill you with his own wand, and the wand of another and neither have worked. Therefore, he says, there is only one other possible solution."_

_He gaped at her, too aghast to do anything but goggle at the brown smudge directly in front of his face. Hermione's voice was too high, too fearful to be under the Imperius curse._

_"Let's see if Harry Potter can be killed by his own wand."_


End file.
